Keeping the lines of communication open

uhura
Starfleet’s emergency backup plan for when Skype’s not working

Since signing with my manager earlier this year, our back-and-forth emails had somewhat dwindled. It seemed to be taking longer to hear back, and even those brief messages were less than encouraging.

Despite working on the new spec scripts, this, combined with my overactive imagination and requisite writer’s self-doubt, made me convinced that nobody was interested in the script.

And I mean nobody.

*Side note – want to feel even worse about yourself? Seek the opinions of those on a public forum. I think I’m truly done with that.

I needed to do something, which turned out to be sending my manager an email asking if he was available to talk.

Best thing I could have done.

I explained to him how I was feeling frustrated about not knowing what was going on, and asked if there was anything I else I could do to help move things along (apart from keep writing).

He totally understood, apologized for being incommunicado, and gave me the update – who the script had been sent to, including several studios and production companies. One studio had passed, another was still reading it, and somebody at a prodco really liked it and wanted to see what else I had.

We also discussed getting the new specs to him, the potential of one of them with a well-known production company and how he was adding a staffer who’d be more in the middle of all the action.

This ten-minute conversation was able to wash away all my self-doubt, inadequacy and just plain lousyness.

It’s hard enough to get representation, but once you do, it’s not all up to them. These people are busy, so it’s easy for you to fall off their radar. You have to be the one to remind them you’re still there. Don’t be afraid to ask “can we talk?”.

If you have questions or concerns, ask them. As I mentioned, it’s all too easy to let your imagination run wild and start generating counterproductive thoughts. The occasional update chat is the best way to stay positive and keep yourself focused.

Finding the spark to get those synapses firing

The solution to your problems is somewhere in there
The solution to your problems is somewhere in there

Finding time to work on the outline of the rewrite has been a bit challenging these days, but I’m managing. I do what I can to make the most out of a limited timeframe. Do this often enough, and it actually gets easier.

One of my biggest concerns with this new draft was “what if I can’t think of anything?”

Trying to figure things out had been bothering me for the past couple of days. No matter what I was doing, I’d be going over potential scenes and scenarios in my mind. How about this? Does this work?

All that was missing was the cartoony stormcloud over my head.

So I’m riding my bike home from work. All of a sudden, a metaphoric lightning bolt springs from that cloud and hits me dead center.

A small idea pops in.  Just a two-word phrase, but within it is the potential to have a widespread impact throughout the rest of the story.

This then triggered a steady flow of still more possibilities. If I redo this part, then this could happen, thereby changing that and the other thing around completely.

How could I not see any of this before?

Writer’s block happens to everybody. It can be extremely frustrating, but you can’t let it stop you. It takes time to break it down, but don’t force it.

Do what you can to encourage your creativeness, and eventually it’ll be a lot more cooperative.  Once you have that breakthrough, you’ll feel like there’s nothing that can stop you.

Pretty cool, isn’t it?

Moving that inner strength outward

It may not be as heavy as you think
It may look heavy, but it might not feel that way

I hate hitting a lull. Even the sound of it is off-putting.

“Lull.” Yuck.

Which of course is exactly where I found myself over the past few days regarding the first draft. I thought I was making some good progress, but instead found myself staring at a screen that mockingly stared back.

“Come on, writer boy,” it seemed to say. “Show we what you can do.”

Putting more pressure on yourself combined with the anthropomorphization of electronics doesn’t usually end well. You’re already frustrated, and when the words won’t come, you just want to throw up your hands and do your best Bill Paxton impression.

I’ve been down this path before. I don’t like it, it ain’t pretty, but it’s gonna happen and I accept that.

This is one of those times when you have to remind yourself that you’ve got two options: quitting, which is the easy way out, and totally squashes all the hard work and effort you’ve already put in.

Or you dig deep and force yourself to keep going. Again.

I recently started re-reading my copy of THE FIRST TIME I GOT PAID FOR IT, which chronicles the tales of many successful and well-known writers and how they got started. Apart from some great stories, it’s a good reminder to us outsiders striving to be insiders that even the pros started in the exact same place we are now.

And if you’re like me and want to change your status in that scenario, there’s only one way – keep writing!

I don’t know what the exact trigger was, but the next time I faced off against that blinking cursor and half-empty page, something clicked.

Boy, did it.

The words didn’t just flow – they gushed. It was like a Niagara Falls of scenes and dialogue pouring onto the page. My fingers could hardly keep up with my brain.

Whoa. Three pages in thirty-five minutes? Inconceivable!

I definitely now feel back on track. A renewed sense of what drew me to the story in the first place. Being that much closer to being able to type FADE OUT. And a little more faith in my ability to be productive, even when I don’t think I can be.

Take that, lull.

Mountain today, speedbump tomorrow

Yeah, it kind of felt like that
Yeah, it kind of felt like that

Well, the first round of Nicholl emails went out yesterday to inform everybody as to whether or not they were among the 372 (out of 7,251) who made it to the quarterfinals.

Regrettably, I wasn’t one of them. But there was a bit of a silver lining, too.

“A little bit of good news: your script scored well, placing among the top 15% of all entries. Possibly read three times, your script was appreciated by two readers. Its numerical placement was within script 728 to 1106 out of 7,251 entries.”

Not too shabby. Best of luck to those continuing on!

So things didn’t work out for me this time. It stings a little right now, but it ain’t the end of the world. I’m not about to stop trying and dive into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s to drown my sorrows.

There was a great tweet from 2003 finalist Ronson Page later in the day: “Hollywood has many, many, many doors. Only one has to open.”  There are other contests, next year’s Nicholl, etc.

This script got me a manager, so I’ve got nothing to complain about.

If anything, it makes me want to work harder and write even more. Finish the first draft of the western spec. Jump into the rewrite of my mystery.

We’re writers. It’s what we do.

Don’t get me wrong. I’d love to see my work advance in the Nicholl, but it’s not the only way in.

And I definitely plan on getting in.

Still undecided about the ice cream, though.

And how did YOU do with your Nicholl script(s)?

Saying goodbye to the old me

Good luck trying to get this song out of your head now
Good luck trying to get this song out of your head now

I’ve written before about subscribing to screenwriting emails, newsletters, that kind of stuff.

I’ve never really kept track of how many, but it seems like a lot. Especially based on how often they seem to pop into my inbox.

A majority cover the basics: tips about what makes a good script,examples of what to do and what not to do, how to develop characters. Standard screenwriting 101.

All of these are great for when you’re still finding your way. You should constantly be taking in as much information as you can.

But this week it hit me: I don’t think I fall into that category anymore.

I’m well aware I don’t know everything.  There are a lot of writers out there with much more talent than me, but I at least have a pretty good grasp of how to put a story together.

And based on recent events, all that time and effort is starting to pay off.

My writing is much stronger than when I started out. I have confidence in my abilities. My work’s received very positive feedback from trusted friends and colleagues. I have a manager who’s very enthusiastic about my script.

There’s still a ways to go, but I feel that much closer to actually establishing a screenwriting career than ever before.

So now it’s time to move on, hit ‘unsubscribe’ and put a lot of those emails behind me.

It’s also a safe bet my inbox is going to start becoming a little less crowded.